The Many Trials Of The Kirklands
by CharlieTheDeer
Summary: Arthur Kirkland grew up in a dark world. His brothers knew secrets, and had seen things no one should have. Arthur left them in fear of their curse affecting him. He soon found his light in America. A young man named Francis Bonnefoy. This is the story of how they and many others experienced trials that all of their choices had led up to. RATED M for profanity and sexual themes.
_**A/N**_ _Alright so, this is an RP between me and a friend, when she wants a shout-out I'll give it to her. But we've been doing this for like...2+ years. So yeah a lot of editing between updates, sorry. My roleplay skills sucked near the beginning, then started getting repetitive. So yep, enjoy the beginning of a worthy contender to the Harry Potter series. Legit we've got like 12 books worth of writing._ _ **End A/N**_

Just a moment ago Francis Bonnefoy had been driving towards his boyfriend's home. But then, one drunken driver changed everything. It was only a matter of seconds, but he didn't manage to dodge the car that was driving towards him, much faster than it should. As his car crumpled up, his body was squeezed, life soon leaving him. And when that happened, his soul left him too.  
Now Francis was standing a few meters away from the scene, watching as the paramedics tried to help the other driver. His body was lying on the ground now, covered with a white cloth, lying completely motionless. Beside his body, was his lover crying his heart out. It hurt to see him like this, it hurt to know there was no way for him to comfort him. Slowly the Frenchman walked over to the crying man, wrapping his arms around him, though he knew he couldn't feel it.

The heartbroken man's name was Arthur Kirkland. He was a skinny man, blonde with bright green eyes that didn't seem to fit in with the rest of his body. One would expect or assume that they were forever filled with light. They weren't. Not now, after such a horrifying call had been made to his household only an hour prior. Not when he had to drive all that way, praying to every god there was that this was a prank or a misunderstanding. "Not my Francis. Please oh Lord don't let it be my Francis." He had whispered to himself like a mantra. But now..now the truth was shown. Fate had been merciless to Arthur. He sat now, hunched over his lover's covered body, sobbing his eyes out and trembling with each ugly cry. How could this have happened? The entire life of his life, gone. He wiped his tears away, his sadness being replaced with hate and anger. This could have been avoided. Arthur realized that this could have happened so many different ways. Francis could still be living if it weren't for.. His eyes landed on the shaken man who was sitting a few feet away. He was surrounded by paramedics and stared at Francis' still body as if he was still alive and spitting out threats. Arthur stood up from his kneeling position, glaring at the drunken man who was fine, only a few scratches on the murderer's arm from broken glass. A blessing. He had survived this even though he was the one who caused it. "You asshole! This is your fault! You killed him!" The pain filled Brit shouted, stomping over to the accidental killer. The police noticed his eruption quickly, rushing over and grabbing his arms, trying to get the hysteric man to calm down. But Arthur couldn't, his heart had filled with scorn. There was no forgiveness for this. "I was going to marry him! It was a surprise and you killed him!" Arthur growled, trying to reach the murderer still and straining. He bared his teeth like a wild animal, still jerking. Little did he know he was being watched by the one he had lost.

Francis was taken aback by the other's claim that he wanted to marry him, but there was nothing he could do. He was distraught at the idea they would never marry. He started following Arthur and putting his hands on his shoulders, "Mon cher, calm down. It's okay," he whispered, aware he couldn't hear him but he decided to say it anyway. He watched, eyes full of sadness for his partner. He squeezed Arthur's shoulder gently, "Come away, now. Don't get upset, my love." The other driver..- no his killer was watching Arthur, too, as he was being checked over for concussion or any other serious injuries they may have missed.

Arthur felt a small breeze. Like a whisper of words he could never hear. He struggled for only a little while longer, before finally, giving up. His body was far too tired and shocked to really do any harm. He sighed, jerking his shoulders away from the police calmly. "I'm done...next time watch where you're driving you git." He spat, before trudging off to his own car. He opened the door, taking one last look at Francis' body before stepping inside. With a heavy sigh, he buckled himself up and pulled off of the emergency pull off. Slowly, he began to drive himself home. He wanted to rest...but more importantly, he wanted to die too..

Francis stood over his body for a few more moments before he decided to follow the Brit home to make sure he was alright. He couldn't believe he was going to ask to marry him. The mixture of emotion flowing through him was bizarre. He was so happy that he wanted to marry him, but he was dead. Their wedding would never come. Sighing, he walked after Arthur's car, glancing back at the wreck one last time. The sunset cast shadows over his body and it sent him chills. A question bounced around in his thoughts as he turned his back to the scene. 'Why am I still here?'

-Page Break-

It was odd. Francis could move a lot faster now, his feet skimming the street as he went. He eventually got to Arthur's house and went to knock, but as his hand went through the door, realization hit him once again that he wasn't really here, so he stepped inside through the door.

Arthur sat on the couch, holding a picture of him and Francis a year back. They were smiling in the picture, holding hands at a fair. "I know that we're the same...but I'm jealous of you...you still have him." The Brit quietly murmured to the picture. He felt so many emotions at that moment hate, depression and sadness. All of the worst feelings in the world for someone who was grieving. He smiled softly at the picture holding it tighter as tears started to drop again from his cheeks. They landed on the frame, creating a slightly blurred effect to the image that could be fixed with a single wipe. "I shouldn't have moved so slow...I should have done it quicker. I'm such a coward." He muttered, his shoulders shaking and his voice coming out in sharp gasps.

"Oh, Arthur, its okay..." the Frenchman whispered as he glided over and sat next to his partner, putting his arms around him again, "Shh... calm down, mon cher." He rubbed the Brit's arms, as if he was really sat there with him, but, again, it just pained him to know that the Brit couldn't feel a thing. He sighed. If only he had left the house a few minutes later. Sure, Arthur may have been mad at him for being late, but at least he'd still be alive. At least he could tell him how much he meant to him. "Oh, Arthur, I love you. Don't you ever forget," he said.

Arthur jerked at the touch, widening his eyes. That whisper. It was louder now. With the disappearance of all of the sirens and the screaming and the traffic. The whisper sounded clear. Like a voice he could understand. He knew who it belonged to as well...but could he trust it? "F-Francis? Is that you?" He wiped his tears away hurriedly. He could have sworn he heard the Frenchman's voice. 'No...no he's dead, he's gone and I can't hear him.' He thought to himself. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in disbelief.

Francis' eyes widened as he heard the Brit say his name. "Arthur... can you hear me? Arthur, it's me, I'm right here with you." He knelt in front of him and cupped his face in his hands, looking into Arthur's eyes. "Arthur, please, it's me. I'm here, my love." He kissed he forehead briefly, praying he could hear him, hoping it was true. Maybe he wasn't really gone after all.

Arthur trembled, suddenly frightened of the voice. It was louder. Sharper. It scared him to death. "No...no, Francis died. I'm not hearing him...he's not here. It's just my mind playing cruel jokes on me." He muttered, hugging himself, trying to ignore the voice. He blocked the sounds out. He wouldn't listen, he couldn't. It hurt so much to hear the dead lover's voice.

"Arthur, sweetheart, it's not just your mind. It's me, I'm really here. Right in front of you," he tried hard to make him hear, to convince him. He hugged him as tightly as possible and he whispered, "Arthur, please, listen. I know you can hear me. I am here." He kissed his cheek a few times and held him close.

"Francis? Are you really there?" The Englishman asked, feeling warm suddenly. His tears had ceased and he was searching the room with his eyes. His body shook anxiously awaiting a response. "If it's really you, then say something only Francis would say." The blonde commanded, his voice uneven and breaking.

Francis chuckled, "Like what? Like something in French that you can't pronounce?" He smiled and kissed Arthur's forehead, "My dear, I promise, I am right here for you. It is not your mind playing tricks. ...I just can't believe you can hear me," he said, smiling happily.

"Francis...Oh god Francis, it is you!" He cried out happily, smiling weakly as he looked around. "Where are you?" He questioned, glancing around the room and holding out his hands, trying to feel if the other was close, not realizing that his hands were passing through Francis.

"Right in front of you, Arthur. Don't worry, I'm right here," he promised, smiling, so, so happy he could hear him. He stepped back a little and clutched Arthur's hands in his, "I'm holding your hands right now, Arthur," he told him. "Listen, Arthur, everything is going to be okay. I know... I know I'm obviously not visible to you, but I'll be here as long as you need me to be."

Arthur smiled wide, his eyes glimmering with hope. "Thank you...I don't know how, but I'm going to bring you back. If I can hear you...then I should be able to see you." The Brit thought his words over, realizing they didn't make any sense. "I can do it! I'll find a spell, and then I'll be able to see you and everything will be fixed!" Arthur rattled off, planning how he would pull such a large feat off. He was raised at a young age to be able to do magic. It ran in his family's blood after all.

Francis sighed and shook his head, "A-Artie, non, you don't have to do that. Is it really a good idea? I mean... Arthur, I want you to be happy and move on, as much as it pains me to say. It might not even go right. You still might not be able to see me, and I might stay like this forever, younger as you grow older. That's no life for you."

"Move on? Francis, I was going to ask you to marry me! I had everything planned and ready...and you're telling me to move on?" The Englishman's eyes were staring hard at the area in which Francis' voice came from. "I don't want to leave you... I want us to stay together..." Arthur choked out softly, tears threatening to come out again.

"Arthur, no, don't cry, mon cher..." he whispered, kissing his forehead a few times. He raised his voice to normal speaking tone, "I heard you say you wanted to marry me, and you know that I would have said yes, of course I would. I'm just worried that things won't go as you plan..." He was aware that Arthur's experiments with magic didn't always work out. However, sometimes they did. Francis just didn't want either of them to get their hopes up.

Arthur stood up suddenly, determination filled his eyes along with tears. "It will, and if not, then I'll die too!" He declared sternly, walking over to a bookshelf and grabbing a large worn out book. He flipped it open eagerly, trying to locate the right spell. 'It will work...it has too.' He gave himself a little mental pep talk as he searched.

Francis panicked at the fact he stated he'd kill himself if this didn't work, "A-Arthur, no! No, you can't do that to yourself," he cried, getting rather upset as he followed the Brit around the room. As he flicked through the book, Francis tried to work out what he could do. He stood there for a moment but then tried with all his might to push the book closed. ...And somehow, it did. He watched the book slam shut in front of Arthur. Astonished at this for a few seconds, Francis then turned to Arthur, "Arthur, you cannot kill yourself over me!"

Arthur stared at the book he was holding. Angered, he turned to where the voice was coming from. "Why not? I thought you wanted us to be together, if this doesn't work, then what choice do I have?" The man's voice was loud, filled with hurt and pain. "I can't live without you...and I won't..." His voice had dropped a little still hurting, just quieter.

Francis moved so he could cup Arthur's face in his hands. He ran his thumb along the Brit's cheekbone and smiled a little, "I-I understand that you're hurting, my love, but... but I can't let you hurt yourself like that over me. I'd never forgive myself for the rest of my- ...f-for as long as I exist..." He pressed a kiss to Arthur's lips, "Arthur, please, see sense. You can try a spell if you really must, but please, please, please do not kill yourself. I will stay by your side, and I always will for as long as you need me to."

Arthur mumbled a "Fine" before opening the book back up. He flipped through the pages impatiently searching for the key words. Ghost. Dead. Life. That's all he needed right now and anything other than that was to be ignored. "I...I think I found something!" The Brit exclaimed before starting to read the passage. "In order to bring a ghost back to life, you need to trade the soul out. The other soul needs to be of equal or greater value than the one you trying to save..." Arthur trailed off here, trying to see if there was any other way.

"You'd need to kill someone," Francis muttered, "Arthur, you're not doing that." He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, "...I don't know if you'd find anything else on the matter."

Arthur didn't hear what Francis was saying, he was too busy calculating what he would need to do. "Trade a soul...equal or greater...someone's spouse? Not a child...maybe a parent..." He mumbled, rereading the passage in the book. "Animals wouldn't work...not strong enough." He added, running his fingers over the old yellow pages.

Francis couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Arthur! Arthur that is enough." He moved quickly, then with a force he did not know he had, he slammed the book shut. He was shocked once he had. He watched as the book fell to the ground, creating a loud noise. "My god.."

Arthur stared as the book had dropped from his hands, then jerked his head up to where he assumed his lover to be. "I'm trying to help you!" He shouted. "Francis, I can't do this without you. I loved you too much. I still love you. I was going to propose, don't you understand? I won't...it's impossible for me to move on from you! You're my...my.." He trailed off, shaking again and covering his face with his hands. "I can't..do this." There had to be some way for this pain to end. For them to be together.

Francis was...a little worried. Arthur's way of reacting to this death was causing his heart to ache. He tried to reach for Arthur, but this time it wouldn't work, his hands passed through the Brit. "A-Arthur, mon cher, please. Just calm down."

Arthur felt a chill, then, he felt nothing. He grabbed the book off of the floor and bolted from the room. He couldn't do this..and he wouldn't do this.

 _ **A/N**_ _So that was the first chapter. It was short, I know, but that's because I'm in school and I'm legit tired. So please review and like or whatever you do to say you like this so far! Thanks~_ _ **End A/N**_


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